


flashover

by sohmins



Category: K.A.R.D (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Detectives, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Police, Romance, Serial Killers, Undercover, sowoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:56:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmins/pseuds/sohmins
Summary: Working undercover is difficult, especially for Jiwoo, who’s not used to the field.Being partnered with the person she despises the most in the agency makes it more difficult, but still manageable.Acting as a couple to draw out a serial killer targeting gay couples? Jiwoo wonders if it’s time to quit.





	1. The Assignment

The most extraordinary of days can start in the most ordinary of ways.

 

For Jiwoo, that meant that when she walked into work that Saturday, she was immediately directed to the conference room. Her focus was research; even though she and the team were already working on one case, they could handle more than one case at a time, unlike field operatives—and utilizing the researchers to their full potentials had become increasingly important after the layoffs. Whenever they were specifically called in on a weekend, it usually meant that they were being assigned a new case. Otherwise, they could work during the weekends from the comfort of their own homes—the perks of being researchers.

 

But she was called into work that Saturday, and although it was inconvenient, it certainly wasn’t out of the ordinary.

 

Jiwoo stopped by her desk first to set down her bag. Assigning cases didn’t usually take that long, but she refused to lug around her laptop unnecessarily.

 

At the desk across from her, her coworker Matthew Kim looked up. “You heard that you’re needed in the conference room?” he said.

 

Jiwoo nodded. “Just setting my stuff down. Do you know why?”

 

“Not exactly, but—” he leaned closer, conspiratorially “—I heard it’s for a new assignment.”

 

“Isn’t it always?”

 

“Yeah, but it’s with a partner.” Matthew was grinning now, and Jiwoo knew she’d hate what he was going to say next. “From the _field_.”

 

She was right—she hated it. Her expression was that of utmost disgust as she said, “Oh, god.”

 

Matthew nodded, and though he was still grinning his face had a grim undertone. “Yep. But I doubt you can really refuse it. The branch needs this mission, especially after field fucked up the last one.”

 

“As long as it’s not with _that_ bitch,” Jiwoo replied. “I think I can deal with practically anyone else.”

 

Matthew chuckled. “I was thinking more about Hara. We both know Hara’s worse.”

 

She thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. “They’re as bad as each other. All of them are just as bad, actually.” As Matthew laughed in response, Jiwoo glanced at the time on her phone. “I should get going. If Jae gets any coffee, save a cup for me.”

 

 

 

 

 

The official team leader, Eun Jiwon, and the unofficial team co-leader, Park Gyuri, were waiting for her when she stepped into the conference room.

 

“Thanks for coming in, Jiwoo,” said Jiwon, and Jiwoo was reminded again of how much more comfortable the atmosphere was now. Sure, about two thirds of their branch had been laid off, but that had helped the remaining third of them get closer—or as close as the original two teams, now merged into one, could get. Part of that “closeness” came from the fact that they no longer followed the custom of addressing everyone formally; rather, formality was determined by age and closeness. Since Jiwoo was much younger than both Jiwon and Gyuri, she still addressed them formally, but they now addressed her as ‘Jiwoo’ instead of the stiffly formal ‘Miss Jeon.’

 

Jiwoo bowed as customary for a greeting, and waited for them to proceed. Gyuri cleared her throat. “So you know you’re here for a new case, right?” When Jiwoo nodded, she continued, “How far are you guys with the current one?”

 

Jiwoo could understand why Gyuri was asking. Usually, when a researcher was assigned a case, the person would coordinate with a few other researchers to accelerate the process—effectively, creating a small team of those that the researcher thought would be best suited for the case. It was a change from what other branches tended to do—which was assigning a few people to a team arbitrarily—but it worked better. With the layoffs, though, practically the whole team was working on each researcher’s case, and this meant that the number of cases they could concurrently work on was limited.

 

They still assigned the cases to one researcher first, as was the typical protocol—they didn’t want to change too much yet. But they’ve been careful about assigning too many cases.

 

“We’re completely caught up to date with backgrounds, alibis, and other foundational information, and we’re just digging back into past records to ensure that nothing was overlooked.” Jiwoo allowed herself a small smile—the research sector received the worse end of the layoffs in comparison to the field sector, but they were still managing to keep up an efficiently rigorous pace. “We can add a case to our workload comfortably—it won’t be too much.”

 

Gyuri nodded. “That’s good. This case will be a little different though.” Jiwoo waited for her to elaborate. “You’ve heard of the string of murders near the Daewon Luxury Apartments?”

 

“I think so,” Jiwoo said. “All the victims were gay couples, right?”

 

“Right. The difference in this case is that we need two people in the field exclusively, as opposed to how we usually have some helper operatives in addition to the main field operative.”

 

As Gyuri finished, Jiwon took over the explanation of the background. “We’ve finally been handed this case since it’s now classified as the work of a serial killer. All of the victims thus far have been gay couples, primarily female couples—though I believe one of the couples was male,” he said, pushing the file across the table toward Jiwoo. “However, the odds point toward female couples being targeted, so we’re sending a female couple into the field. Our goal is to essentially draw out the serial killer while also investigating the environment of the Daewon complex.”

 

Jiwoo flipped through the file, skimming through some of the background information at the beginning. What Matthew had told her so far—that it was a partner assignment—was proven to be true. With a sinking feeling, she realized that she was probably involved in this assignment as more than just a researcher. “So the reason I’m here . . . will I be one of the people in the field?”

 

“Yep,” Jiwon said, nodding. “Since our goal is to also investigate the environment. Daewon is a major connection between all of these murders—they either were residing there at the time of their deaths, or they used to live there prior. We think the killer either lives in the complex, in which case it would be ideal for our operative to get close to him or her, or attends many of the events that are hosted at the complex, giving the killer access to the couples.”

 

“All right.” Jiwoo set down the file. “Who will I be working with?”

 

“The other operative that agreed to this assignment . . .” Jiwon cleared his throat. “Would be Jeon Somin.”

 

Jiwoo froze. Her mind blanked for a full second before she could articulate— “What?”

 

“Jeon Somin. I do think you know her. She used to be a part of the field sector before the merge, so we approached her first since she has experience. I thought you two would work well as partners.”

 

“I . . .” Jiwoo scrambled for a defense that wouldn’t imply that she was doubting his choice. “Aren’t there other girls? Ones that actually have field experience too?”

 

Jiwon shook his head. “Youngji’s on a different case right now, so we can’t double her up. And Hara looks more like she’d be Somin’s sister rather than her significant other. Besides, we wanted a researcher to be there as well.”

 

“But Seungyeon—wait, nevermind.” Seungyeon was a researcher, yes, but she was pregnant. They wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ —send her out into the field like that. Jiwoo sighed.

 

“Are you all right with taking this case?” Gyuri asked, but it was an empty question—Jiwoo really didn’t have an option. Not if she wanted the branch to stay intact.

 

“Yes, I’m all right with the case,” Jiwoo said, her tone flat. She could feel a part of her soul leaving her body.

 

“Excellent. Go ahead and get started with catching up on the background for the case,” Gyuri said, pointing to the case file Jiwon had handed her.

 

“And here’s the contact information so you can coordinate with Somin,” Jiwon said, handing Jiwoo a single sheet of paper. Typed up in a plain, sans serif font was the name ‘Jeon Somin’ followed by her phone number, email address, and office room. Jiwoo tried not to appear visibly disgusted as she took the sheet of paper.

 

“We look forward to your work,” Jiwon said as he and Gyuri stood up.

 

Jiwoo stood up with them, and bowed as a goodbye. “I’ll do my best.”

 

 

 

 

 

Slamming the file onto her desk, Jiwoo let out an exasperated sigh. “How the fuck do they expect results?”

 

Matthew, who had jumped at the sudden sound, carefully looked between Jiwoo and the file. “They assigned the case, didn’t they. And you have a partner—” His eyes widened almost comically. “Don’t tell me that your partner is—”

 

“The one and only.”

 

“Holy shit,” he breathed out. “So you’re partnered with Somin?”

 

“Yeah, and of all people—fuck you,” Jiwoo said when she looked up to see a giant grin on Matthew’s face. “This isn’t a fucking joke.”

 

“Of course not. It’s an assignment.”

 

“But how do I work on it _with_ her? I can’t. Fucking. Stand her.”

 

“I mean you can’t really stand any of them, so I guess it wouldn’t have really mattered . . .” Seeing her expression, Matthew finally tried to be of some help, though he still had that grin on his face. “I mean, you could just ignore her and do your individual parts—”

 

“No, you don’t _understand_.” Jiwoo shoved the file across the table toward him. “We have to work _together_.”

 

She watched as Matthew opened the file and started reading the introduction, like she had in the conference room. His eyebrows kept going higher as he continued to read, and she wondered if they’d reach his hairline. Then he burst out laughing. “Holy shit, you guys have to be a _couple_!”

 

Jiwoo groaned as she dropped her head into her hands. “ _Exactly_.”

 

There was the sound of the door opening, and then the familiar voice of Park Jaehyung said, “What’d I miss?”

 

“Jiwoo and Somin are partners—sorry, a _couple_ ,” Matthew said, grinning at Jiwoo as he corrected himself, “for the new assignment.”

 

Jiwoo looked up in time to see Jae fumbling as he nearly dropped the coffee. “Holy shit.”

 

“That’s what I said!”

 

“Shut up. Both of you.” Jiwoo rested her head against the desk, letting its coolness try to calm her overheating mind.

 

She had to work on the field. Sure, this wasn’t too much of a surprise, but it _was_ different from what she was used to—she was a researcher, dammit, not a field operative. With the merging of the sectors due to the layoffs in their branch, though, both sides were now more or less expected to develop their skills in both departments if they wanted the branch to survive. They still tended to stick to their own strengths, so despite being somewhat expected, this assignment was still a push into foreign territory.

 

But now, in addition to the fact that she was already in foreign territory, she had to explore said territory with the one person that she despised the most in the entire branch—hell, maybe even the entire agency. Jeon Somin was a force to be reckoned with, but rather than her brilliance in the field Jiwoo attributed it to her stubborn approach to working in a team. In fact, Jiwoo would argue that Somin was one of the reasons their team failed the previous mission. She’d have to rack her mind to bring up all the evidence, but she _had_ the evidence—she just couldn’t think of it at the moment, because she was more focused on the main part of the mission.

 

They had to be a couple.

 

They had to act as a fucking couple so that they could paint targets on their backs and lure out a serial killer.

 

If Jiwoo was being completely honest with herself, she knew that she could theoretically manage to work with Somin. Jiwoo could work with people with varying opinions and personalities . . . it was a part of her job, something she had learned to do with experience. After all, many people in the research sector before the layoffs had been dead weights, but Jiwoo had put up with them—dragged them with the rest of the sector—and it worked out. So working with Somin wouldn’t have been as big of a deal as it currently was—except for the fact that they were supposed to be a _couple_.

 

Just thinking of the word made Jiwoo nauseous.

 

It wasn’t even that she was against homosexuality or the LGBT community or anything. Something like that hadn’t even crossed her mind before, but she’s only ever had one boyfriend—before she dumped him because it was in middle school and he was an idiot. She must have been an idiot, too, for accepting his desperate ass—but her friends had been adamant about setting her up. Anyways, she had no problem with homosexuality or anything, though it was largely taboo in South Korea. The younger generation was more accepting, as seemed to be the norm around the world, while the older generation wasn’t having it; still, conservative attitudes dominated the majority of public opinion.

 

But for Jiwoo, the problem wasn’t that she had to pretend to be gay. It was the fact that she had to pretend to be together with Somin. A field operative. And not just any field operative, but _Somin_.

 

She needed some ibuprofen. She could feel her headache getting worse.

 

“Hey, at least it wasn’t Hara,” Jae said as he slid into his seat at the desk beside Jiwoo’s. “We can _all_ agree that Hara’s a bitch.”

 

“You’re not really helping,” Jiwoo said, glaring at him, and he carefully slid a coffee cup toward her as a peace offering. She took it but didn’t deign to give him a smile.

 

“Come on,” Jae said, nudging her shoulder with his elbow, “it can’t be that bad . . . okay, sure, you have to deal with that headstrong bitch. But hey, at least she’s hot?”

 

Without looking up, Jiwoo kicked at Jae from under the table. He pulled back with an exclamation of pain.

 

“You had that coming,” Matthew said. Then, to Jiwoo— “So when are you two meeting up?”

 

Jiwoo slightly lifted her head. “What?”

 

“To, you know, get your game plan together.”

 

She dropped her head back down. “I don’t know. I don’t want to.”

 

Matthew sighed. “Where’s your phone?”

 

“Bag.”

 

She heard him digging through her bag, and then he carefully pulled her hand out from under her head. She still didn’t look up. “I’ll message her for you,” he said as he pressed her finger to the fingerprint scanner on her phone. Her head still resting on the desk, Jiwoo rolled her eyes, but she was thankful—she wouldn’t have gotten to it that day otherwise.

 

 

 

 

 

Jiwoo found herself waiting at a table in the far corner of the café. It was only natural for her to choose such a position—she preferred to be able to observe the rest of her environment while minimizing the attention drawn to herself. Also, she’d rather have as few people as possible bear witness to what she was sure would amount to be a fiasco: she was scheduled to meet Somin in about fifteen minutes.

 

To keep herself from calling off the meeting that Matthew had so carefully managed to arrange the day before, Jiwoo had spent the entire night reading through the case inside and out as well as starting some of her own research.

 

The murders, which she had heard about on the news even before being assigned this case, all targeted gay couples, most of them being lesbian couples as Jiwon had explained—three out of the four, in fact. All six of the females had died, as well as one of the males. The other male, however, was still in the hospital, albeit in a medically induced coma for the last few days—he was a part of the most recent attack.

 

There were still no updates as to the nature of the attack on the males, but Jiwoo guessed that it would be the same modus operandi as for the females: one always died from a lethal injection, while the other ended up with the worse end of the deal and suffered through light torture, such as stab wounds and injuries from physical blows. This person also received the lethal injection after some time, but the time of death has so far always been determined to be at least an hour after the first person. That meant that the second person had to endure at the least an _hour_ of torture before receiving the same fate. As gruesome as it sounded on paper, Jiwoo knew it was probably worse in person.

 

There were also no particular suspects as of yet. The notes in the case file only indicated that all the residents of the building were plausible suspects, but that wasn’t too helpful, though it _was_ better than starting completely from scratch.

 

Then there was the main reason that their team had been contacted specifically as opposed to a typical police force: the complex wanted to keep the incidents as low-profile as possible so as to avoid impacting its business. With its money and influence, Daewon Corporation had kept the media at bay and its connection to the murders under wraps, choosing to appeal to its connections in the government to get an agency to look into it directly without going through the police. Their agency was much more discreet than the police, resulting in less publicity. Unfortunately, to be this discreet their agency usually utilized undercover operations, much like the one Jiwoo was now stuck in.

 

Going through the entire case _again_ while waiting still left her with a good ten minutes before Somin would arrive. That thought reminded her again of the fact that she was working with none other than Somin.

 

Jiwoo stood by her argument that Somin was the reason for their failure in their last assignment—the failure that had led to all of the layoffs and the branch being threatened with dissolution. If she—no, if the fucking field sector had simply listened to the directions that they’d been given, then they wouldn’t have compromised the lives of several helping operatives . . . and maybe the life of the newbie could’ve been spared.

 

But no: Somin had to invent her own plan that blatantly ignored all of the advice of the research team and lead to the grandest fuck up in the history of their branch. Nothing less could have been expected of her, of course, and the entire field sector that listened to her.

 

Then they had had the audacity to blame the researchers for insufficient information—just thinking about those accusations made Jiwoo’s blood boil. Thank god they had Jiwon—calm, collected Jiwon—to settle the disputes and get them through the layoffs intact. If only he had been able to get them through that assignment too.

 

The sound of someone clearing her throat— “Jiwoo.”

 

Jiwoo’s neck cracked with how quickly she snapped her head up.

 

Time passed quickly when she was lost in hateful thoughts.

 

She didn’t bother standing up, or even telling Somin to sit down. She couldn’t get herself to do anything but nod slightly and say, “Somin,” in return, echoing Somin’s greeting.

 

Somin didn’t even look phased by Jiwoo’s cold treatment. Why would she? Somin was naturally callous, and though she did care about the team it was to ensure success, not necessarily look out for them as people.

 

That was how, without as much as a disconcerted blink, Somin smiled and slid into the seat across from Jiwoo. “Pleasure to work with you again,” she said, a light lilt to her voice.

 

“Really?” Jiwoo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I don’t think that went too well last time. I’d say it actually went wrong in every way possible.”

 

“Then I suppose they want a repetition of those results,” Somin said, keeping her smile in place, “since they put us together.” But Jiwoo had worked with Somin before, and she recognized the way Somin’s eyebrow just slightly twitched before she spoke. Jiwoo could practically hear her screaming through that smile, and it relieved her that she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. But they had work to do.

 

“It’s not like I wanted this either, so can we cut to the point?” she said.

 

The other girl then let her smile drop, replacing it with the glare that Jiwoo was all too used to. “Great,” Somin said, her voice back to its usual tone of boredom. “Then how about telling me why you even accepted the case?”

 

“Me?” Jiwoo had to laugh so that people wouldn’t realize their argument for what it was. “Why did _you_ accept this case?”

 

Somin raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because I was asked first? And because the field is my area of expertise? You’re a researcher, so I think you should stick to that, even if you’re not too good at it.”

 

Biting her tongue to stop herself from lashing back, Jiwoo took a deep breath. Nothing she said would get to Somin: being in the field, Somin was used to dealing with all kinds of people—people Jiwoo could only dream of. Jiwoo, after all, was a mere coworker at best. Not a real threat. She internally sighed as she realized that she would have to be the bigger person, even if Somin didn’t deserve it.

 

She could practically feel Matthew pat her on the back of her shoulder with pride.

 

Jiwoo cleared her throat. “They need a researcher out there, to ‘investigate the environment’. So you need to get us well-integrated into the community, and I can send reports about the situation there.”

 

“As well-integrated as a gay couple can be,” Somin muttered.

 

Jiwoo paused. “You don’t agree with it?” she asked carefully. It was one thing working with someone who hated her. It was another thing working with someone that hated both her and the very essence of the assignment.

 

Somin shook her head. “Would I have accepted the assignment if I didn’t? I think it shouldn’t matter. You like who you like, I don’t care. But most of Korea doesn’t see it that way. It’ll turn heads, as integrated as we might try to get.”

 

Relieved that the situation wasn’t as bad as it could have been, Jiwoo nodded along. Anything to keep the atmosphere from becoming confrontational. “So, since you have experience with . . . being in the field . . .” Jiwoo started.

 

“And since you don’t,” Somin added.

 

Jiwoo had to dig her nails into the palm of her hand to maintain an unaffected expression. “Because of that, do you have any plan for going about this assignment as of yet?”

 

Somin leaned forward and began to drum her fingers against the table, her nails making a distinctive ‘click’ each time they struck the surface. “No. But I’m sure you’re familiar with the standard procedure. Fake backgrounds, identities, all that. We’ll probably get some sort of makeover, too, like hair color, to both avoid an association to our real identities and to stand out.”

 

Jiwoo was, of course, familiar with this procedure. In fact, the research team was typically in charge of developing said fake identity and making sure there were no contradictions or implausibilities in the background. The part about physical changes, though, was new information.

 

“Stand out? Isn’t the goal to fit in?”

 

Somin let out a heavy sigh and began as if she were talking to a kindergartener. “See, the _nature_ of the assignment is to _draw out_ the serial killer,” she said slowly, carefully emphasizing her words in such a way that Jiwoo could feel her blood pressure rising from sheer irritation. “Meaning we have to stand out so that he or she targets _us_ and not another random gay couple.”

 

There was a beat of silence during which Jiwoo took a slow breath. “There’s no need to be so condescending when you’re the one that’s _supposed_ to know what to do,” she said at last. “If I’d been asking you about research, then I’d get it, but I’d expect you to know better when it comes to the field? Or is that not the case?”

 

Somin’s eyes flashed, and Jiwoo hid her smile by clearing her throat. “Anyways, I think Team Leader Eun and Team Leader Park will be contacting us sometime later today or even tomorrow.” And then, because she couldn’t help herself— “Pleasure to work with you again.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Here goes my first attempt at a longer fic because why not (also because Somin x Jiwoo has stolen my soul dlskjdlksf). I'll probably update once every two weeks (??) except during exam weeks. So like . . . hope you guys like this?
> 
> HOP ONTO THE SOWOO TRAIN Y'ALL-


	2. Moving In

If there was an art to learning to let go, then Jiwoo had definitely not mastered it. Neither had Somin, evidently, as both of them reused to make eye contact with each other as they stood outside the conference room, waiting for the team leaders to call them in.

 

The clock ticking to indicate the seconds was the only way Jiwoo was keeping track of time, because neither of them was willing to move before the other. It was maddening—but Jiwoo wasn’t about to ‘let go’.

 

Which was why both of them jumped when the door opened suddenly and Jiwon stepped out. He looked a little puzzled at their reactions, but he didn’t address it, instead welcoming them into the room to get started on the assignment.

 

“So, I take it you two know each other from before? Or have at least met up prior to today?” he asked, looking between the two of them as he walked around to sit behind his desk. He was here alone, instead of with Gyuri; Jiwoo realized that it might not be such a long meeting after all.

 

Both of them nodded stiffly as they took the seats across from him. Jiwoo was watching Somin from the corner of her eyes—as well as she could without actually turning her head—and she had a feeling Somin was doing the same.

 

“Excellent,” Jiwon said, and Jiwoo knew that he wasn’t ignorant of their discomfort with each other—he was too perceptive for that. He wasn’t a team leader for nothing.

 

So Jiwoo wondered why he was letting them continue working together.

 

“Well, this meeting wasn’t really going to be an informational session. I would hope that the files I’ve given you two would be sufficient for that, since you both have significant experience in this area. The reason I wanted to meet up with you two, though, was to give you your new identities for the assignment.” He reached into one of the desk drawers and, digging through a few papers, pulled out two manila folders, identical in their plainness but for the names on the tabs: one had ‘Jeon Somin’ and the other had ‘Jeon Jiwoo’.

 

“Included in there is all of the background for your new characters. Physical changes, we typically leave to the field operative, so Jiwoo, I’d suggest you confirm anything with Somin. Somin, I trust that you have that aspect under control?”

 

Somin nodded, and Jiwoo was a combination of annoyed and relieved: annoyed, because she had to now rely on Somin for help, but relieved because she could at least rely on Somin for help. Somin couldn’t try to pull something similar to yesterday.

 

“Well then, glad that’s over with. You’ll be moving into the apartment later this week—speaking of which, here are the keys.” Jiwon held out a small yellow envelope, and before Jiwoo could think to reach out, Somin was already taking the envelope.

 

Not that it mattered, Jiwoo told herself. They were going to the same place anyway, unfortunately.

 

Then Jiwon smiled, looking between the two of them, and said, “Good luck, you two. We’re all depending on you.”

 

 

 

 

 

“You know,” Jiwoo started, watching Matthew as he carefully read through the entire file with great interest, “You seem a bit too excited about this.”

 

“Well, it’s not everyday that we get to see first hand how our backgrounds work in the field,” he said, not lifting his eyes from the file.

 

“Why the hell are you rereading it? Didn’t you help develop it?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Matthew flipped the page, momentarily glancing up to give Jiwoo a look that said ‘ _duh_ ’. “But that was before I knew it was going to apply to you specifically. After the higher ups finalized the mission and the team leaders chose you and Somin, the development went straight to the team leaders, since they wanted this to be perfect.”

 

Jiwoo frowned. It made sense that the team leaders would be involved in identity development; both Jiwon and Gyuri were researchers before they were team leaders, after all. But them taking over because they wanted it to be perfect? This was definitely a critical case—a fact that Jiwoo already knew, but was now reemphasized by the involvement of the team leaders.

 

“Have you thought of what you’re changing yet?” Matthew asked, drawing Jiwoo out of her thoughts.

 

She furrowed her brow. “What?”

 

“You know, like physical changes,” he clarified.

 

Jiwoo shook her head slowly. “Not really, actually. What do people usually do?”

 

Matthew shrugged. “I’d think nothing as extreme as plastic surgery . . .”

 

“Even _I_ know that, dumbass,” she said, rolling her eyes.

 

“Then the only options left, really, would be changing your hair and makeup.” He paused to think. “Maybe dye your hair? Get a haircut?”

 

Jiwoo took some of her hair between her fingers, twirling it around. She never went through the hair dying phase in high school or college like many other girls—and guys—did. Her hair, now a little above her elbows, was still the same natural black that she was born with. To change it so suddenly for an assignment . . .

 

To be fair, it wasn’t like she had never thought about changing her hair. In high school especially, she was the only one in her friend group that kept her natural hair. Though none of them pressured her into doing anything, she still felt the pressure of wanting to fit in; a dark brown wouldn’t be too different from the black, would it? It would still be natural, not draw any attention . . .

 

_We’re all depending on you._

 

But not drawing attention wasn’t exactly the goal.

 

Jiwoo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Dying and cutting it, then?”

 

“Sounds good—wait, but didn’t Jiwon say you should check with So—”

 

“She said we were supposed to draw attention, to make sure the serial killer targets us and not some other innocent couple,” Jiwoo said. She also didn’t want Somin to have a say in how she looked. If she was going to change something about herself, Jiwoo wanted it to all be her own doing. “I think I can figure out how to draw attention.”

 

 

 

 

 

It was on an impulse, but when Jiwoo stepped out of the salon she didn’t quite feel the regret she had been expecting. She would have to get used to the way strands of her hair were now flying before her eyes from the wind. When her hair had been longer, she could tuck it into her sweatshirt and put her hood up, knowing it would stay in place even without a hair tie; now, her hair was barely past her shoulders, and the frontmost sections refused to stay put in her hood (and she hadn’t thought far enough to bring a hair tie).

 

It would also take a while for her to get used to the way said strands were now blonde instead of black, but Jiwoo found that after spending most of that day in the salon, she had already become relatively accustomed to it. It had taken quite a few processes and more than a few hours to get her hair to the light blonde that it was now, not including the lunch break she had to take in between.

 

She could already feel some of the attention. People actually spared her a glance, sometimes looking at her for a second too long to be casual. In the time it took for her to walk to her car, she could no longer count on her hands the number of extra glances she had gotten. After settling down and locking the doors, Jiwoo turned on her phone, which she had turned off earlier to save the battery—she hadn’t predicted just how boring the process of dying her hair would be.

 

Immediately, her phone started vibrating to notify her of all the missed notifications. Before she could check any of them, she was receiving a call from Matthew.

 

“Hello—”

 

“ _Finally_ , we’re kind of starving, did you know that?” said a muffled voice. There was the sound of shuffling, and then Matthew’s voice was clearer; he must have gone inside somewhere. “Jae is seriously considering getting food without you, but don’t worry, I got your back.”

 

“How right am I in saying that this was one of the last times you were calling to check if I was still coming?” His silence confirmed Jiwoo’s guess, and she rolled her eyes. “Where are you two now?”

 

“At the ramen place near work. You know where, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Jiwoo checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. The blonde hair was the first thing she noticed. _This is good. Attention was the goal._ “See ya in a few.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Holy fuck,” Jae said as soon as he saw Jiwoo approaching. Matthew had to turn around in his seat, and then his face mirrored the shock on Jae’s. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

 

“Did I sound like I was kidding?” Jiwoo asked as she took the other seat at the table. “The goal was to draw attention, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job with that.”

 

Matthew was the first to somewhat recover and manage to nod. “Right. True. And dying your hair such an extreme color fits with the supposedly ‘extreme’ concept of being with a girl. At the least, it’ll help take the focus off your acting if it’s not convincing enough.”

 

Jiwoo lightly punched him in the arm. “Did you order yet?”

 

“Yeah, the usual. And before you ask, the clothes are in the car, we did all the shopping don’t worry.”

 

Right. Jiwoo remembered that she had given Matthew and Jae the task of shopping for a new wardrobe since she personally hated shopping for clothes. Their funding for every assignment included money allotted for maintaining their cover—this covered cosmetic changes, clothing, anything they needed to assume their new identity. Usually Jiwoo was one of the people in charge of developing this budget plan; it was a bit strange to be on the other end.

 

Just in time, the server came out with their order and placed the piping hot bowls of noodles in front of them, along with a few side dishes of meat and vegetables. Matthew and Jae immediately started digging in—they must have actually been starving while waiting for her.

 

But Jiwoo was slower to start; stirring around her noodles a few times to let them cool, she asked, “What did you guys . . . like . . . buy?”

 

Jae finished his bite of noodles first, so he was the one to answer. “Well. Now that you’ve asked. We figured that you weren’t really one for dresses and skirts and the like since you don’t usually—wait, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

 

He looked to Matthew as if to confirm, but Matthew shook his head. “No,” he said, covering his mouth with his free hand since he was in the middle of chewing. “She wore a dress to the funeral service.” And then, as if he just realized the topic that he had brought up, he froze mid-chew.

 

Jiwoo tried to salvage the mood. “I’m not a fan of dresses, so you better not have bought too many of those.”

 

Jae laughed. “Only a few. We did tell the girl that helped us ‘no skirts’, though, and I think she did pretty well. Nothing too colorful, either, since you tend to stick to neutral colors.”

 

Jiwoo nodded in appreciation. “Wow, you’re not as blind to the world as I thought.”

 

Jae only flipped her off in response, going back to eating.

 

“Heard anything from Somin yet?” Matthew asked. When Jiwoo shook her head, Matthew rephrased his question. “Did you try to message Somin yet?”

 

Jiwoo shook her head again.

 

Matthew sighed and put his chopsticks down. “What exactly is it with you two? I know research and field don’t get along, but as annoying as I think the field sector is, I don’t exactly _hate_ them like you seem to.”

 

He had a fair point. But Jiwoo didn’t know if she could actually explain it.

 

Somin and she had about the same experience, both having been working for about six years. The differences started with where they worked. While Somin had been working in their current agency, DSP, for the last six years—albeit in four different different branches, including their present one—Jiwoo had only been at DSP for the last few months. She had been under a different agency for the last six years, though, so her experience level was practically on par with Somin’s.

 

But that similarity in experience didn’t mean shit if Somin was going to always be a stubborn bitch.

 

In the few months that she had been at DSP, Jiwoo had already worked on a number of cases, most of which had been in progress when she had arrived. Most of those cases had gone relatively well—even the ones with Somin as the primary field operative. The difference between the rest of the cases and the ones with Somin, however, was in the way the assignment was concluded. Somin’s cases never worked out cleanly, even if they were successes—and it just so happened that the latest case hadn’t even been a success.

 

But Jiwoo couldn’t exactly explain that all without the conversation derailing into a rant, and she would rather enjoy this last day of not being undercover. So instead, she just grimaced and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jiwoo would have to say that the new car she had for the duration of the assignment was probably the most jarring change. It was some new, high end car, required because the neighborhood she would be living in was mainly occupied by the wealthy, but she preferred her own, average car that blended into the surroundings instead of grabbing attention. But that would have gone against the point.

 

She hadn’t met up with Somin since that meeting with Jiwon two days ago; even the conversation between them was minimal, having only sent brusque texts to each other confirming that they’d meet in front of the complex about ten minutes before the arranged 9 AM move in time. As she usually did, Jiwoo arrived early by a few minutes. She expected Somin to arrive a few minutes later, based on how their meeting at the café proceeded, but she was surprised to see Somin there already.

 

Somin was sitting on the bench along the sidewalk by the parking lot, relaxedly on her phone, her freshly dyed brown hair covered with a loose beanie. She looked up as Jiwoo powered off the engine, and then her face broke into the biggest smile Jiwoo had ever seen directed her way. Jiwoo light furrowed her brow, but then she quickly masked her confusion with a small smile, which was all she could muster at the moment. Acting wasn’t her strong suit, but she knew that she had to at least _seem_ like she liked Somin, and frowning wouldn’t have helped.

 

Jiwoo stepped out of the car and started toward the trunk to get her suitcase—a small one with the essentials until the ‘packing boxes’ (packed by the research sector) were delivered later today.

 

“Need a hand, Jiyeon?”

 

That took Jiwoo aback for a second, but she quickly recovered. “It’s fine, I got it. How was the traffic this morning, Soojin?”

 

Somin relaxed a little. She had probably wanted to talk first to ensure that Jiwoo would remember to use their fake identities instead of real names, and it was a good thing she did—Jiwoo had been on the verge of fucking up already, and they had barely started. This was shaping up to be an excellent assignment.

 

“It wasn’t bad,” she said as Jiwoo took out her suitcase, and then Somin moved to close the trunk for her. “Let’s head up, then?”

 

 

 

 

 

The landlady, an apparently cheerful woman that looked like she was trying too hard to look younger than her age, greeted them as soon as they got off the elevator. Her hair, dyed an unnatural black, was pinned up in an elaborate bun, and she was wearing a striking red formal dress with matching heels. She was also very pale, and smile lines were evident on her face. Jiwoo thought she looked way too cheerful for such a cold Tuesday.

 

The lady clapped her hands together. “The new residents, correct?”

 

“Yep,” Somin said, glancing at Jiwoo and shooting her a smile. Jiwoo would have to get used to this.

 

“Excellent,” the lady said, checking her watch. “Would you dears do me a favor and remind me of your names?”

 

“I’m Lee Soojin,” Somin said, and then turned to Jiwoo.

 

“Kim Jiyeon,” Jiwoo said in introduction. The name rolled off her tongue unnaturally.

 

“Pleasure meeting you. As you may have heard—or read, on the contracts you’ve signed,” the lady said, chuckling, “I’m Yoo Insook, and I’ll be around the complex today, so if you need help with anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask for me in the main lobby.” She smiled, her wrinkles become more defined. “Welcome to Daewon. I’m sure you’ll love it here.”

 

 

 

 

 

Their apartment was almost the farthest from the elevators. Jiwoo made a mental map of the wing, noting the locations of all the security cameras, though she doubted that they would matter unless the serial killer had access to the security system. They could prove to be useful in crossing out suspects, though.

 

The entrance door was tall, which already gave the apartment a luxurious feel. The lock was an 8-digit passcode, entered on a keypad under the handle. Somin entered the passcode, Jiwoo pulled both of their suitcases into the apartment. Somin shut the door behind them, and before Jiwoo could marvel at the size of the apartment, Somin said, “DSP made sure that our apartment’s a safe zone. No need to worry about people hearing us through these doors ’cause the apartments on either side are also ours, and will stay empty. So we can drop the covers here if you can remember to put them up as soon as we step out.”

 

Maybe it was too much to think that Somin could actually be bearable. “I’ll remember. I’d rather not keep them up in here too.”

 

“Good, because without a break from acting like that I think I’ll be sick.”

 

Jiwoo raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were used to acting?”

 

“Yeah, it’s not about the acting,” Somin said, deadpan. “It’s just the fact that it’s with you.”

 

Jiwoo only sighed, trying to keep her breathing steady even as her blood pressure rose. “Glad to know the feeling’s mutual.” Then she took her suitcase and headed toward what should be their room, preferring to remove herself from the situation—after all, this would be one of the few times she actually could.

 

The master bedroom wasn’t that hard to find; although it was at the back of the apartment at the farthest point from the entrance, it was marked by a none too subtle set of double doors. The room was already furnished with the bed and dressers, for which Jiwoo was glad. Since she was there first, she picked what would be her side of the bed—thankfully, the bed was big enough for both of them to completely ignore each other. If not, Jiwoo would be fine sleeping on the sofa, actually.

 

Throwing her suitcase open, Jiwoo pulled out her laptop and a binder with all the case files. Opening the PDF of the complex floor plans, Jiwoo found the page of their floor and marked the approximate locations of all the security cameras. She’d have to go explore the entire floor one of these days.

 

That reminded her—she had been given access to the names of the residents in the complex. The landlady, Ms. Yoo, probably wasn’t aware of that, as it wasn’t quite in accordance with the rules. But then again, Daewon didn’t seem to care much for ‘rules’, and the branch needed this assignment to end successfully in order to stay intact. Jiwoo figured that if no one else knew, it wouldn’t matter in the long run. For now, she pulled up the list of residents on this floor. They were the ones she had the highest chance of running into first, after all.

 

None of the names struck her as being familiar, so Jiwoo knew she’d have to do background checks on them all, or at least ask research if they’d gone through with those yet. She could probably text Matthew or Jae—

 

The doorbell rang. Jiwoo jolted up, startled. She set her laptop down on the bed and walked back to the living room just as Somin was checking the security monitor to see who it was. Somin shot her a pointed glance before opening the door.

 

Jiwoo had initially been worried about how to greet their neighbors, but this particular neighbor didn’t seem like she’d be a problem.

 

“You’re the new neighbors!” she greeted loudly, and Somin stepped aside to let her enter. Her husband, Jiwoo assumed, followed her, his presence much less noticeable. “We live a little ways up this wing, and just couldn’t help but notice all the hubbub caused yesterday by the movers. Oh, but it does still seem empty in here, doesn’t it?” she said, looking around the just barely finished living room. The TV hadn’t even been set up yet; it was still in its original box.

 

“Yeah, the rest of our stuff is coming in later today, actually,” Somin replied, her smile never wavering. “But I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves? I’m Lee Soojin, and this is my girlfriend Kim Jiyeon.”

 

It was as if everything around them froze in place, from their breathing to the woman’s smile. Jiwoo watched carefully for any change in the the demeanor of the neighbors.

 

A long second passed, but then it was as if a play button had been hit. “Lovely meeting you two. I’m Lee Hyori, and this is my husband, Lee Sangsoon.”

 

Somin and Jiwoo bowed in greeting, and then Hyori continued, “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on our door—704, almost at the elevators. And we did bring something for you, since you are moving in . . .”

 

Her husband, who was so clearly used to being overshadowed by his wife, was actually holding a large gift bag this entire time. Somin didn’t seem as surprised as Jiwoo was, and exclaimed, “Oh, thank you so much!”

 

“It’s nothing, dear. Well, you two get settled, and we can all get to know each other soon! Like I said, knock if you need anything!” And the flurry of pure energy left the apartment with her (and her husband).

 

As Somin closed the door, Jiwoo sighed in relief. “Holy fuck.”

 

“What do you think of them?”

 

“What do I think?” Jiwoo furrowed her brow. “Loud and nosey for sure, and personally I think they’re kind of annoying too—the wife at least. She’s a bit much.”

 

Somin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that conclusion required a lot of brainpower, didn’t it?” she said, her tone impatient. Jiwoo wondered if she preferred the way Somin shut up when they had to act, but quickly pushed the thought away, remembering that if Somin was acting then she would have to be as well. “I meant about their reaction when I said you were my girlfriend. What did you think about that?”

 

Jiwoo recalled the way Hyori acted in the moment that the words processed, and the moment after—her posture, her expression, her tone. “She seemed . . . confused? For a second, at least. Then she didn’t seem too put off by it. Surprised, but not disgusted or anything negative.”

 

Somin nodded. “Exactly. You called her annoying, but this one’s a friend.”

 

“You can be annoying and still be a friend.” Jiwoo shrugged. “Just ’cause you can’t pull that off doesn’t mean others can’t.”

 

If that affected Somin, she didn’t let it show, but she did make a point of nearly knocking Jiwoo to the side as she shoved past her on the way to the bedroom. Jiwoo rubbed her shoulder to ease the dull ache, but allowed herself a smile. This might not be as bad as she thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, exams hit me right after the last update and it was brutal T-T. But hey, Thanksgiving break's coming up . . . anyways, thank you all so much for the love so far!
> 
> On another note: KARD COMEBACK SOON WHAT. The concept looks amazing (also: You IN Me?? Excuse me???? What is this supposed to mean??????) and I'm scared for what it'll be. Prayers for our souls, which will be snatched.


	3. Accidents and Coincidence

“Hyori invited us to a dinner event this Friday.”

 

“I know,” Jiwoo replied without looking up from her laptop.

 

There was a pause, and then a deep sigh. “You’re not even being productive right now,” Somin said, her voice slightly raised. This could have been because she was sitting on a separate sofa, farthest from the one Jiwoo was on; or because she was just annoyed in general. Jiwoo felt it was more likely the latter. “What are you even doing?”

 

Definitely the latter, then. “Scouting out the complex. Background checks.”

 

“Scouting out the complex?” Somin asked, incredulous. Jiwoo glanced up to see her raising an eyebrow. “How the hell are you _scouting out the complex_  while cooped up in here?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Jiwoo said, “I mean finding information online. I don’t really have to leave for that, do I?”

 

“So you’re just going to stay here the rest of the week until we _have_ to leave for the dinner event?”

 

Jiwoo blinked thoughtfully. “Maybe. But that means I’d be stuck with you, doesn’t it?”

 

Somin looked like she was holding back a more scathing retort. “Exactly. So, in favor of maintaining the mental health of both of us, why don’t we _actually_  scout out the complex?”

 

“What do you mean by ‘actually’?”

 

“I _mean_ —” Somin leaned forward, even though it made no difference because they were still on nearly the opposite sides of the living room— “We should go out. Explore the complex.”

 

Jiwoo frowned. She _had_ been intending to do that at some point . . . but already? She had to put her acting to the test again so soon? “When? Now?”

 

“Better now than later, when we might actually need to have the complex memorized.”

 

“Why don’t you—I don’t know, do it yourself? You seemed pretty convinced that I would only be hindering you with my ‘complete ignorance about the field,’” Jiwoo said, raising her hands to air quote.

 

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be an obstacle,” Somin reassured her. “But I can’t exactly go alone—that can raise flags later about why I was there without you, and if they ask questions about you that I don’t answer as you would . . . there’s just a lot more room for error.” She paused. “More error than can happen with you being there. I think. I hope.”

 

Jiwoo gave her a look, but nonetheless slowly closed her laptop. “Do you have a plan?”

 

“Do we really need a plan?”

 

For the first time, Jiwoo was left at a loss for words. “Somin—you can’t” —a frustrated exhale— “Yes, we need a plan.”

 

“All right . . .” Somin stood up and walked around to the middle of the room—coming halfway. “So we go out together, walk around and if anyone asks, we’re just exploring. Getting to know the complex. Sound like a plan?”

 

Jiwoo pursed her lips. So this was why nothing went well when working with Somin . . . but she supposed that this was the best she was going to get. “Better than nothing,” she said, standing up as well.

 

“Great. Bring a jacket, we might head outside while we’re at it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jiwoo found herself staring blankly at Somin when the latter stuck her hand out. After a second, Somin huffed in exasperation. “Take it, idiot. We’re supposed to be a couple.”

 

Jiwoo scrunched up her nose. “Not all couples do that, right?”

 

“But we have to be obvious, remember? Drawing attention is the goal here.”

 

 _Does that have to involve being clingy as fuck?_ Jiwoo wondered. But the elevator dinged, indicating that they had reached the first floor, and she was forced into action: they stepped out of the elevator holding hands like a “normal” couple. While Somin was making the actions seem natural, though, Jiwoo didn’t have to worry about the accompanying conversation being as draining.

 

“So we need to _memorize_ the locations of all the security cams?” Somin asked as she looked around in fake wonder.

 

“Yep. It’s the least conspicuous way. I got the ones on our floor mapped out,” Jiwoo said as she too glanced around. One right in front of the elevators; another at the end of the hallway they were walking down. “Do we need to check all the floors?”

 

Somin shook her head. “Don’t think so. You have the floor plans, right?” When Jiwoo nodded, Somin continued, “Then we can finish checking out the first floor for now—and maybe outside—and check any floors with different layouts later.”

 

It was a sensible plan, so Jiwoo found no objection. They instead continued down the hall that would eventually turn toward the lobby—

 

Until a woman nearly ran into them as they turned the next corner, bumping into Somin’s shoulder. The woman gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. “Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention—”

 

“It’s fine,” Somin interrupted quickly, “we weren’t paying attention either. Sorry about that.”

 

 _Except we were_ , Jiwoo thought, internally rolling her eyes.

 

The woman paused as she took in the two of them, and said, “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Choi Sunghee,” the woman said, smiling. Jiwoo found it off-putting, the way her mouth refused to stretch as far as a normal smile would, as if it would have torn under the strain.

 

Somin replied first. “I’m Lee Soojin.”

 

“Kim Jiyeon,” Jiwoo said next. She felt Somin slightly relax as Jiwoo said her name correctly; a flash of annoyance passed over Jiwoo, and she only hoped it hadn’t shown on her face.

 

“Pleasure to meet you both,” Sunghee said. She looked at them curiously. “I don’t recognize you from around here . . . are you new, perhaps?”

 

“Yes, actually,” Somin said, glancing at Jiwoo as she continued. “My girlfriend and I just moved in this morning.”

 

“Oh, just moved in I see—” Sunghee cut herself off, looking between the two of them again. “Oh. _Girlfriend_?” she repeated, voice a pitch higher.

 

Jiwoo could no longer tell if Somin was tense, because she herself was as well. But Somin betrayed none of that tension as she replied, calmly: “Yes. Girlfriend.”

 

Sunghee stared at Somin for a few seconds, then at Jiwoo, who felt herself go unnaturally still under her gaze. Then Sunghee scrunched up her nose and, dusting her shoulder off, walked past them without another word.

 

Jiwoo remained unmoving, until Somin nudged her gently in the side. “Come on. Let’s check outside.”

 

 

 

 

 

Jiwoo closed the door behind them, relieved to be back in their apartment at last. “Would’ve been easier if Daewon just handed over the security blueprints along with the resident info,” she muttered, mostly to herself, but Somin must have heard heard.

 

“Why would they hand over the security blueprints?” Somin asked incredulously.

 

“Why would they hand over the resident information?” Jiwoo countered. “They’re already fucking up, why not fuck up a little more and make it easier for us? It’s not like one is more legal than the other—oh wait, I’m pretty sure releasing your _own_ security blueprints is more legal than releasing _someone_ _else’s_ personal information.”

 

Somin snorted. “But if they cared about legality they wouldn’t have given you that information, would they? The fact that they gave you that rather than their own information shows their priorities.”

 

Jiwoo knew that Somin was right, but facts didn’t necessarily lessen her frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, flipping it out of her face. “Maybe,” she grumbled.

 

After a pause, and to Jiwoo’s surprise, Somin spoke up. “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been easier, though,” she admitted; when Jiwoo looked up at her, confusion on her face, Somin shrugged. “We could’ve avoided that whole debacle downstairs, right?”

 

To say Jiwoo was taken aback would have been an understatement—Somin actually agreeing with her? It was a weird feeling, one she couldn’t quite name.

 

“Uh . . . yeah. Right,” Jiwoo replied, and then mentally facepalmed as she realized how sarcastic that surrounded. “Exactly,” she added, as a clarifier.

 

Somin smiled—a small, reassuring sort of smile—before heading toward the bedroom, leaving Jiwoo to sort out her confusion (and look over the floor layouts) on her own.

 

 

 

 

 

“So I went through all the floor plans,” Jiwoo said as she dropped a file onto the coffee table. “Marked all the cameras. The odd floors except the first floor are all the same, so I matched them with our floor. Did the same for the evens. Got the outside perimeter, too, but we just have to check the ranges of any security cams of the surrounding buildings.”

 

“Guess we were finally able to accomplish something . . .” Somin smirked. “You’re welcome.”

 

Jiwoo let out an exasperated sigh. “Are you really saying this was all thanks to—”

 

“Hold on, shut up.”

 

“I’m not gonna just—” Jiwoo stopped since Somin had already put her phone to her ear. Rolling her eyes, Jiwoo fell back onto the single sofa.

 

“No, I’m at home,” Somin said. “Why?” A pause. “Where?” A second later, “Should we . . . okay, I’ll—we’ll—be there.”

 

Jiwoo waited till Somin hung up before asking, “What happened?”

 

“An accident, right outside. Not related to us or the mission, but it’s the daughter of someone on our floor, so Gyuri called to let us know. We act natural—we’re heading out for lunch and just happen to witness this.”

 

“Daughter . . .” Jiwoo racked her brain as she grabbed her jacket. Three families on their floor had children, but only one family had daughters. “So it must be Lee Jungwoo and Song Eunkyung.”

 

As they exited their apartment, Jiwoo filled Somin in on the family’s basic information. “Jungwoo is a businessman, usually traveling for meetings, while his wife is a stay-at-home mom. Two daughters: Serin, who’s our age, and Seyoung, who turned eleven this year.”

 

“Would you say they’re possible suspects?” Somin asked as the elevator door closed. “Apart from Seyoung.”

 

Jiwoo hesitated, then shook her head. “I doubt it. I mean, I can’t say for sure of course, but there’s no motive that we’re aware of right now.”

 

The elevator dinged, and though they were still a ways from the lobby, the flurry of activity was audible even from down the hall.

 

Jiwoo had experience with law enforcement, of course, but she was by no means a first responder; and her current job rarely required leaving the office, though this particular assignment was an exception. Neither did she come across accidents on a typical day. So the mess that was the lobby was somewhat a surprise, though not as shocking as it might have been for the average person.

 

The accident must have occurred right outside the apartment complex, as there were police officers on the sidewalk visible through the windows and the glass entrance doors. There were a few more in the lobby talking to possible witnesses. As Jiwoo and Somin slowly headed toward the entrance, someone stepped in front of them, blocking their way.

 

He was dressed in a uniform-like black suit, and had a corded earpiece in one ear. His metal name badge marked him as the head of security. Jiwoo’s first thought was that he looked rather young to be the head of anything, but then she remembered that this was merely apartment security—not anything at the government level, which was the only security level with which Jiwoo typically interacted.

 

“Good afternoon,” he said formally. “As residents of the complex, would you mind answering a few questions pertaining to this tragic accident?”

 

Somin didn’t respond, so Jiwoo quickly said, “We actually just came down here, I’m not sure if we’ll be of any help—”

 

“It’s fine, Ji—Jiyeon,” Somin interrupted. Jiwoo turned and realized that Somin was fighting to keep back a smile. “He’s just—”

 

“Jiyeon? God, it’s been a while since they arranged a full-out mission,” the security officer said with a smile, though it looked like he wanted to laugh. Then to Somin: “So what’s your name then? Wasn’t your last one something like . . . what was it, April?”

 

Somin stiffened. “Not the time, idiot—”

 

“I think saying ‘idiot’ is more attention-grabbing than talking about any past covers, to be honest,” he replied, and then he glanced at Jiwoo. “Your girlfriend, right?” he asked Somin, and before she could respond he added, “I think she looks confused enough to draw attention, so how about we all step aside for a moment?”

 

They moved to a corner of the lobby, too far for anyone to eavesdrop. “I figure introductions are in order,” the officer started. “I’m Kang Woojin, head of security here at Daewon.”

 

“Lee Soojin,” Somin said, and then the officer turned to Jiwoo.

 

“And you are . . .”

 

“Kim Jiyeon,” Jiwoo said slowly, more like a question than a statement. “Can one of you explain?”

 

The officer laughed. “I work in the field. Don’t know if you’ve heard of a Kim Taehyung, but that’s me,” he said.

 

“A helper operative?” Jiwoo asked.

 

Taehyung nodded. “Exactly. Just an extra set of eyes, since the area of interest is expansive.”

 

“They should’ve gotten Jaeduk on board instead, then we would’ve had an extra brain too,” Somin complained.

 

Jiwoo stopped herself from letting a smile show.

 

“You’d only need an extra brain if you didn’t have one, right?” Taehyung retorted. “Anyways, there isn’t much in terms of audio surveillance here, so it’s mainly other people that you need to be careful around. I know the security cams above the front desk do record audio, though, so watch out for that.”

 

Jiwoo opened her mouth to thank him, but Somin felt no need for such formalities. “What happened outside?”

 

“Oh, that.” Taehyung glanced back to the entrance doors and sighed. “It was a hit-and-run. A girl—looked about ten—was waiting to cross the street when a car swerved onto the sidewalk. Clearly the driver’s fault, if the person is located.”

 

“How’s the girl?” Jiwoo asked. “Seyoung, right?”

 

“Yeah, and if I’m being honest, pretty bad. But she was still conscious when they took her to the hospital . . . haven’t gotten any updates since.”

 

Then there was screaming, and all three turned toward the source. Outside, a woman was weakly punching someone trying to hold her back from the police officer trying to talk to her.

 

Jiwoo recognized her from the profile photo in the resident information files. “Song Eunkyung?”

 

Taehyung heaved a sigh. “Yeah, shit, I should be helping with that. Well, thanks for answering my questions, and I’ll be sure to contact you two if I have anything to follow up on,” he said with a smile, and after a slight bow, he strode toward the entrance.

 

Jiwoo kept staring at the woman, trying to decide if approaching to be able to better hear what she was yelling was a viable option, when she felt Somin nudge her in the side not too gently. “What?” Jiwoo hissed.

 

“I was talking to you, idiot,” Somin said quietly, glaring. “Who’s she yelling at?”

 

“The officer, are you blind?”

 

“No, she isn’t.” Somin looked pointedly at the officer. “There’s someone behind him, because he’s trying to keep her from getting past him. So, as I was saying, _let’s move closer_.”

 

Jiwoo pushed her irritation to the back of her mind, because upon second glance she realized that Somin might be right. The officer wasn’t trying to back away from Eunkyung; rather, whenever she pushed forward despite her husband holding her back, the officer stepped closer as if to help in restraining her. The closer they got, the clearer the voices became:

 

“You just needed to—to watch over her—just until I got back!” Eunkyung shrieked as she attempted to push past her husband’s grip. “Just until I got back!”

 

“Ma’am, please, if you could calm down, then we can escort you to—” The officer narrowly avoided Eunkyung’s arm as she swung out at him. Somin pulled Jiwoo aside as some officers from the lobby, presumably after being alerted by Taehyung, headed outside to help defuse the situation.

 

“You could’ve prevented this! You—you—you could’ve stopped her—”

 

“No,” said a new voice, unnaturally calm. “The car had swerved. If I’d been here, then I would’ve been in that ambulance too.”

 

“How _dare_ you—”

 

Two more officers took a hold of Eunkyung, and as she continued shouting, they ushered her into one of the police cars parked along the sidewalk. There, one of them continued to talk to Eunkyung inside the car, trying to get her to calm down.

 

Her husband, Jungwoo, looked to the officer—no, behind the officer. He furrowed his brow. “Was that necessary?”

 

The same voice from earlier: “She’s being irrational—”

 

“She’s in _shock_.” Jungwoo shook his head. “I’m going to head to the officer. Will you be coming?” The person must have said no, because then he turned to the officer and said, “Please, bring my wife to the hospital when she’s calmer. I’ll be on my way.”

 

The officer nodded, and then Jungwoo disappeared down the street toward the outside entrance to the parking garage. As the officer moved out of the way, the person Jungwoo had been talking to became visible; she pushed open the glass door and, without sparing anyone in the lobby a second glance, walked straight for the elevators.

 

Pinkish brown hair, the pink muted and soft; long side bangs framing her face, her hair parted off to one side; an olive green parka coat over a grey hoodie. She looked about the same height as Jiwoo and Somin, possibly a bit taller because of her winter boots.

 

“That’s Serin, isn’t it?” Somin whispered as the girl disappeared down the hall.

 

Jiwoo nodded.

 

“Isn’t it too cold for jeans?”

 

Jiwoo gave Somin a look, and Somin only shrugged in response. “I’m just saying . . .”

 

Then, as the activity in the lobby came to a standstill and Jiwoo realized the position they were in, she said, “Hey, let’s go get food? We’ve been standing here for a while and I think the receptionist is deciding whether or not she should walk here.”

 

 

 

 

 

“What do you want?” Jiwoo asked as she read through the menu on the signs above the counter.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Jiwoo resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, smiling tightly, she said, “Yes, actually. Because I’m paying.”

 

“I can pay for myself,” Somin said under her breath, but when Jiwoo raised an eyebrow Somin sighed. “Fine. Number four on the menu.”

 

After ordering, they sat down at a table on the far end of the store, the one decision that they seemed to agree on without debating. Neither of them spoke, and Jiwoo knew she wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence first.

 

She still had mixed feelings about this mission. They were somehow managing to work together so far, but it was only the first day and Jiwoo was already tired. Moreover, she was doubting her own ability to stay sane—sure, they both prioritized the case, hence their ability to ostensibly cooperate. But how much more of this she could handle, Jiwoo wasn’t sure.

 

“Shit, we have to write up a report for the day, don’t we,” Somin said suddenly.

 

“Yeah, we do,” Jiwoo said, only then remembering the protocol that she had so strictly enforced on all other missions. It was easier to remember these things as a researcher, when she relied solely on such updates to learn about the progress about the case. From the perspective of a field operative, though, she supposed it was more forgettable because of its redundancy.

 

As she went over the events of the day in her head, Somin piped up, “I guess that’s something you can do, since you’ve done pretty much nothing all day.”

 

Jiwoo groaned. “Really? I was _with_ you the whole—” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “God, it’s been one fucking day, how are you so annoying already?”

 

“Probably because I’ve had to deal with you all day,” Somin mused.

 

Jiwoo was only able to laugh. “You know, maybe if you weren’t as stubborn about everything, this wouldn’t be so hard.”

 

“Stubborn? Since when have I gone _against_ anything you suggested?” Somin paused, pretending to think as she tapped a finger on her chin. “Oh, right, except when I suggested we actually leave the room to scout the complex instead of following your useless idea.”

 

“You think your ideas are brilliant, don’t you?” Jiwoo said with derision. Somin narrowed her eyes. “Then how’d you manage to fuck up the Ajax case?”

 

At that, Somin exhaled quietly and leaned back. Rather than anger, Jiwoo began to feel the slight tugging sensation of guilt. She sighed, cursing her conscience. “Hey, sorry—”

 

“No, it’s fine.” Somin pursed her lips. “I mean, it’s not fine, but I’ve been quite the asshole, and you needed to vent that out. I get it. But let’s make something clear here.” She leaned forward across the table, an edge to her voice. “ _I_ did not fuck that mission up. _I_ was the one that tried to salvage it before it all went to shit.”

 

This was probably the most angry Jiwoo had seen Somin get while directly talking to her, but Jiwoo couldn’t stop herself from chuckling humorlessly. “Not like it didn’t.”

 

“You can think whatever the fuck you want about me,” Somin continued, “but in the end, if it weren’t for me, it would’ve ended a _lot_ worse.”

 

Jiwoo took a deep breath, but before she could say anything in return she caught the sight of a server approaching their table. Instead, she pressed her lips tightly together, looking down at her phone as he placed the two plates and drinks on the table.

 

“Enjoy your meal,” he said cheerily, ignorant of the atmosphere surrounding the table.

 

They ate in silence for the first few minutes, until Somin’s phone chimed, alerting them to a new text.

 

“I thought I put this on vibrate,” Somin muttered as she wiped her hands on a napkin. She reached into her purse for her phone—the new phone, Jiwoo noticed. It was one of the phones that the agency had given them as a part of their cover. “It’s Hyori, just texting me a reminder about the party this Friday. She also asked for your number . . .”

 

Back to the mission. This was going to give her whiplash, Jiwoo thought—from hating each other’s guts one moment to working together the next. In response to Somin, she only shrugged. “Go ahead. She’d ask for it Friday otherwise, so why not now?”

 

“You just don’t want to deal with actually talking to her so that she can get your number,” Somin guessed.

 

Jiwoo only rolled her eyes in response, keeping her comment to herself to avoid worsening the atmosphere. After a few moments, she carefully started, “So . . . Kim Taehyung?”

 

Somin put her glass down, and taking a napkin, dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah.” Her voice low, she continued, “We’ve worked together in the past, so I guess you could say we’re close. He joined a year after me.”

 

Jiwoo nodded slowly, continuing to pick at her food. After a few moments, Somin added, “But as far as we’re concerned, he’s Kang Woojin, head of security.”

 

“Right.” Jiwoo picked up her sandwich, as if to take another bite, but then set it back down again. When she looked up, she saw that Somin was watching her movements. “What?”

 

Somin sighed. “Look, if you want to waste your time to look into the Ajax case again then go ahead, I don’t care, but—”

 

The front door of the restaurant was slammed open and Somin whirled around to try to see what was happening, but Jiwoo was faster as she grabbed Somin’s forearm and pulled, the force of the action yanking Somin out of her seat and making her nearly topple onto Jiwoo. Instead, Somin fell to the floor, taking Jiwoo down with her; but Jiwoo didn’t stop because then the gunshots rang out, first one, then another.

 

By this time Somin had also figured out the situation. As the two of them scrambled behind an overturned table for shelter, Somin took out her phone, breathing out a faint: “What the hell?”

 

Jiwoo saw that she was calling 112 and refrained from telling her that if the police weren’t already on their way then they’d arrive too late. Instead, she tried to hear over the chaos that was the rest of the restaurant.

 

“Sir, please, put down the gun—”

 

“Where is he? Where the fuck is he?”

 

“Sir, if you could calm d—”

 

Another gunshot, which Jiwoo only hoped had gone into the air or off to the side. “That motherfucker, I swore I’d kill him, even promised my wife— _where is he_?”

 

Sirens in the distance, which made Jiwoo breathe out a sigh of relief. But Somin was still tense next to her, if not more tense now; Jiwoo realized why as another shot sounded.

 

“Tell me right fucking now or I swear I’ll blow your head off too you little—”

 

A voice through a megaphone: “Sir, please drop your weapon. Please back away from the people and drop your weapon, or we will be forced to shoot.”

 

“Right now! Tell me where—”

 

“Sir, you are surrounded, please drop your weapon and raise your arms above your head.”

 

The man must have complied a few seconds later, because there was the clatter of metal against wooden flooring and then a rush of footsteps.

 

Jiwoo glanced at Somin for confirmation before peeking up above the edge of the table. Then she gestured for Somin to stand up. “We’re good.”

 

Police officers had swarmed into the restaurant, and there was an ambulance slowing to a stop out front. There was shattered glass from the front door, which is what most of the injuries seemed to have been from. Looking around, Jiwoo remembered her thoughts from earlier: _It was only the first day, and she was already tired_.

 

“I think we’ll be able to get past just giving our information . . . since we weren’t injured or anything,” Somin said as they stepped past the table.

 

Jiwoo eyed the cops talking to some of the other uninjured witnesses. “But they’re asking the others right here.”

 

After a quick glance around, Somin turned to Jiwoo, her face almost touching Jiwoo’s ear as she whispered, “You have a headache. Hold on, I’m taking you to an ambulance.” When Jiwoo failed to react for a second too long, Somin pushed Jiwoo’s head down so that she was resting on her shoulder. “ _Play along damn it._ ”

 

With her head on Somin’s shoulder, Jiwoo stumbled through the rest of the restaurant with her eyes half closed, not responding as Somin gave excuses about Jiwoo feeling light headed and needing a doctor first. Once they stepped outside, though, Somin nudged Jiwoo up. “Before the paramedics see,” she said.

 

Jiwoo only managed to breathe deeply again once they were sitting in the car with the doors locked. Coughing as the shock caught up to her, she asked, “Is that a normal thing?”

 

“Of course, if there isn’t at least one shooting every mission I get worried.” Somin gave her a disbelieving look. “Did you get a good look at him?”

 

“I mean, yeah,” Jiwoo said, “but it’s not that important. The police have him, so we can always get his report through research.”

 

“You want to _research_ —”

 

“ _I meant_ the department. God,” Jiwoo exhaled. “I can call up one of ’em later and have them send updates.”

 

“Right. We usually say HQ.”

 

Jiwoo held back a laugh. “That sounds . . . _pathetic_. Are you in a _spy_ movie or something?”

 

Somin rolled her eyes. “No, it’s kind of called ‘life.’ Anyways, okay, we basically have the shooter’s info.”

 

“But he was after someone in particular,” Jiwoo said, catching onto Somin’s line of thought. “He said he . . . that he’d even promised his wife that he’d kill that specific guy. But he was asking around about where he was . . . so he doesn’t know what he looks like?” She frowned. “But how does that work?”

 

“I would say the shooter doesn’t know what he looks like _now_ ,” Somin said. “Maybe the guy changed his appearance somehow?”

 

“Then why was he looking there specifically? And what are the odds that we were there too?”

 

“Do you think we’d be _guessing_ about this if I _knew_?” Somin snapped. Then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry. Stress.”

 

“It’s fine, I get it,” Jiwoo said, turning to look out the passenger window. “Besides, this doesn’t even pertain to us. The police can handle this.”

 

“Neither does the kid, Seyoung,” Somin said quietly. “But I still got a call about it from HQ . . .”

 

Jiwoo was glad she was facing away because she couldn’t help but smile. At least she didn’t laugh. Clearing her throat, she said, “Well, that had to do with Daewon. This is just coincidence.”

 

“Guess you’re right . . .” She heard Somin shifting in her seat. “Everything’s blocked up. Damn it, we’ll have to wait for the road to clear up or we’ll be stuck in traffic.”

 

Jiwoo glanced at the windshield to get a better look at the main road, where a few lanes were unavailable due to the stopped emergency vehicles. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be,” Jiwoo said as she looked back to her window.

 

They were parked in the lot across the street from the restaurant, so from their spot Jiwoo had a direct view of the whole scene. They weren’t far enough to be spared from the blinding nature of the flashing lights, though. As she continued to casually observe the scene, something caught her eye.

 

“Hey,” Jiwoo said without turning away from the window. “Is this a popular lunch spot?”

 

She heard Somin shift, probably to look at the restaurant too. “Uh, I suppose? It opened recently so I guess everyone wants to try something new . . .”

 

“No, I meant for residents of Daewon. Would it be considered a popular lunch spot?”

 

“I don’t know but I guess it could be? The complex is visible from here, so technically walking distance if it was warmer, and sandwiches seem pretty ‘in’ nowadays as far as eating out goes—why?”

 

Jiwoo turned back to see Somin looking at her in confusion. Tilting her head toward the restaurant, Jiwoo said, “Almost _all_ of them live at Daewon. I recognize the faces from the resident profiles.”

 

Somin followed her gaze, her eyes widening slightly. “So if the shooter chose this restaurant out of all the options . . . because he might not know the face but he would know other characteristics—habits, likes, dislikes, personal info . . .”

 

Jiwoo nodded. “We could be wrong, but odds are his target lives at Daewon.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! But hey I'm back? The "exposition" stage is basically over by this point so I hope you guys are as excited to read future updates as I am to write them ~
> 
> Thanks for sticking along for the ride so far!


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